Marching As to War: A Post-Apocalyptic Novel

Home > Other > Marching As to War: A Post-Apocalyptic Novel > Page 4
Marching As to War: A Post-Apocalyptic Novel Page 4

by Justin Watson


  Jane and Riley were still sitting where I had left them.

  When I walked up, Riley said, “Hey.”

  “Hey,” I said and noticed Jane didn’t even look at me. She was watching for Gordon.

  “Have a good look around?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, maybe I’ll take a look too. You gonna be here?” As he said, “here,” he tilted his head toward Jane, who still seemed to be ignoring us.

  I just shrugged and sat down.

  As Riley walked away, I said, “Watch you don’t get too close to Winslow’s house.”

  He stopped and gave me a puzzled look.

  I felt like telling about how that Lieutenant had treated me like dirt. But I just said, “Ain’t very friendly up there. You’ll see what I mean.”

  Riley nodded and walked away. I turned toward Jane and was surprised to see her looking at me. After a moment, she turned back to watch Gordon’s shed.

  Jane remained silent and so did I. There was nothing to do but watch the men coming and going from the shed. Some glanced her way and, for a moment, saw nothing but a boy wearing his daddy’s big coat. Then they would look back, amazed to see a girl. Walking away, they would whisper to one another and look over their shoulders at her. One man was so busy staring, he tripped on a tree root and fell down. The men with him laughed like it was the funniest damn thing ever seen. If Jane took notice of the stares or the foolishness, she gave no sign. She sat silent and still, like a hunter waiting for game.

  Watching all this, I began to feel bad for her. She was all alone, without kin or friend, the only girl in the whole camp. Of course, she had aggravated me some, and I did think she was crazy. But I had seen no weakness or complaint in her. And she seemed to mean every damn word she said, even if she was talking nonsense.

  It was about noon when Gordon came out of the shed. Jane stiffened, getting ready to be called over, getting ready to go meet Charles Winslow. Gordon, however, didn’t look toward Jane. He yawned and stretched before pulling a pipe and tobacco pouch from a pocket. He carefully loaded the pipe and sent a guard to fetch a brand from a nearby cooking fire. Gordon lit his pipe with it, took a few good puffs, and exhaled looking up at the clouds. Only then, did he glance at Jane. Then he turned to the man who had fetched the brand for him. Gordon said something to him. They both laughed. Then Gordon went back in the shed.

  Gordon hadn’t been laughing at me, but he reminded me of the other Lieutenant up the hill and the way I’d been treated. That made me mad. Before I hadn’t cared, but now I hoped she would get to see Winslow. She was crazy, but I wanted her to have that much. Then Jane turned to me and she nodded, nodded the way she had when I first saw her.

  Aside from going off to fetch some food for us, I spent the rest of the day sitting there with Jane, watching the comings and goings in silence. We didn’t see Gordon again, and nobody spoke to us. Riley never came back.

  At sunset, Jane and I went to where we had camped. Riley was there, just finishing building a lean-to for Jane. He even had an old blanket to hang over the opening.

  “It won’t keep out much rain,” he said, “but I reckon you could use a little privacy.”

  “Much obliged,” she said and sat down. Riley and I got a fire going, and we ate a little. After a while, Riley wandered away to see if he could find a friend he had run into earlier in the day.

  Jane just sat looking into the fire. And I looked at Jane.

  I reckoned she was about 17, the age when most of our young women got married. Given what she was doing, I doubted Jane was promised to anyone. Despite her chopped up hair, Jane had a pleasant enough face, but she wasn’t what you would call pretty. Under all the men’s clothes, she probably had a sturdy frame, and from what I could tell, her teeth were good. My mother always said that was a sign of good health. I wondered what she would look like if she dressed like other girls.

  When I found myself thinking this, I felt guilty. Jesus said, “Whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her in his heart.” I was promised to Maggie, even though she was pretty much a stranger. So I ought not to be thinking about any other girl, and especially not one who believed God told her things. I was still looking at her when she glanced up. I turned away. To hide my embarrassment, I asked her where she was from.

  She told me she was from a little town with just a few families. Her father and mother had four acres and they raised chickens and some pigs. She had an older sister, who had just been married, and a younger brother “who can hardly wait,” she said with a laugh, “to be in the militia.” I laughed too, remembering how impatient I had been to leave home when I was younger.

  I wanted to ask if she was promised to anyone up home, but I thought better of it. Instead, I asked about the old man who had come with her to the first camp.

  “That’s my Uncle John. My parents didn’t believe in my mission. Uncle John did. He helped me convince that captain to send me here. Uncle John wanted to come, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t bear all the walking. And besides, he’s a preacher with a congregation.”

  “What kind of preacher?”

  “Church of God. We believe in all the gifts of the Holy Spirit. You know what that means?”

  “Sure. I’ve known Church of God people.”

  “Now, we don’t hold with handling snakes, drinking poison, or any of that ‘signs’ foolishness.”

  I nodded, but I was thinking, Handling snakes might be safer than what you’re trying to do.

  “What about you?” she said, smiling. “I take you for a pretty starchy Baptist.”

  I laughed and told her she was right. My family had been Baptists of one sort or another for generations. Then I started talking about my family and our farm, though I didn’t mention Maggie. And for a while, we were just two people passing the time. Then I asked about her messages from God. I just couldn’t help but be curious.

  “Do you want to know? For real?”

  “Tell me.”

  She drew a long breath as if gathering her strength. “Sometimes the message is a feeling that blows through me. It’s like a strong wind in the trees. Everything in me just bends to it. Sometimes, it’s words, just a few simple words. I hear them inside, but it’s not like thinking. It’s not like a voice. The words are just there.”

  I said nothing.

  “Sometimes, I pray, and God puts a picture in my heart. At first, I may not know what it means. But if I keep holding it in my heart, I understand. Sometimes it’s a dream. I knew when David Winslow died. God gave a dream. Clear as anything. I didn’t tell anyone about it, but when we heard he’d died, I knew God had a purpose for me.”

  I still said nothing.

  “Ever since, God has been showing me through the Spirit the dangers our people face. And He has showed me what I must do.”

  “You really think Winslow will talk with you?”

  “If it’s God’s will, it will happen. And it is God’s will.”

  “But that Lieutenant Gordon won’t give you the time of day. How are you going to get to Winslow?”

  “Don’t know. If God wants it, He will make a way. I just have to be ready.”

  “And God wants this war? I mean, He wants us to fight the Government?”

  Jane looked at me and said. “You’ve killed?”

  “Yeah,” I said. Her look made me feel uncomfortable. And I remembered the feel of the blue-eyed man’s throat in my hands.

  “Why?”

  “They were thieves and raiders. It was my duty.”

  “I’m glad you did your duty. But if you can kill for an earthly reason, why not kill for a heavenly reason, for God?”

  Riley stumbled into the light of our fire and sat down. From the smell of him, I guessed he and his friend had shared some homebrewed whiskey.

  When I turned back to Jane, she was already behind the blanket in her lean-to.

  Soon Riley lay down, and I helped him get under his blankets. Before long, he
was snoring softly as he always did. He never had trouble going to sleep. A little whiskey only made it easier. I built up our fire a little and got under my blanket. I didn’t go to sleep right away. Instead, I watched the fire burn and thought about what Jane had said, “Why not kill for God?”

  Jane, I thought, what if you’re wrong about what God wants?

  And then I thought, What if she’s right?

  CHAPTER 6

  I slammed the blue-eyed man’s head against the rock. He was trying to rip my hands from his throat. But then his hands turned weak and fell away. I could barely breathe from the effort as I hit his head on the rock. Then I heard that wet cracking sound.

  I opened my eyes and saw the sky. Dawn. I sat up, breathing hard, shaking. Then I realized Jane was sitting outside her lean-to, watching me. I didn’t want her to see me like this.

  She said something, but I didn’t understand.

  “What?” I said.

  “A dream?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Bad?”

  “Yeah, bad.”

  I had the feeling she wanted me to tell her about the dream. Some folks say it helps to talk, but I wouldn’t do it. Just couldn’t. Especially not with her. I got up, grabbed my rifle, and walked away.

  I wanted to keep clear of Jane, of everybody, for a while. As soon as the sun got up, she would go to Gordon again and demand to see Charles Winslow. Riley would go with her. They didn’t need me. So I wandered around the camp. I thought some about things Jane had said last night, but mostly I just wanted to be alone.

  All that stopped when a man stepped in front of me. He was filthy, and his nose was large and misshapen, like it had been broken a few times. “Hey,” he said, “ain’t you one of them what brought in that girl?”

  Every camp, like every little town, has its bully. I was just today’s sport for this one. But I wouldn’t play.

  “You’re crowding me,” I said.

  “How come she’s wearing britches and all?” the man said. “Something wrong with her?”

  “None of your concern.”

  “What’s she doing here?”

  “Out of my way.” I said each word slow.

  He stepped aside and let me pass. Then he said, “Hey, how much she charge for a quick fuck?”

  I turned and hit him with the stock of my rifle. He landed on the ground with blood all over his right ear. I was about to start working him over with my boots when the some of the other men around grabbed me and pulled me back. I lost my rifle and hat as I struggled. By the time, the man I had hit was back on his feet, a big man was between us, shouting, “Stop it!”

  Everyone around me stopped, but I was still trying to get loose. The big man put one hand on my chest and looked me in the eye. He said, “You want to fight me, boy?”

  I looked up at him. He was half a head taller than me and wore the insignia of a squad leader. I shook my head and stood still.

  He looked at me a moment longer and said, “Let him go.” The men were slow to obey, and I wrenched my arms free. After straightening my coat, I picked up my hat and rifle, and set off as slow as I could. I didn’t look back as I went down the hill.

  When I got to Jane and Riley, still waiting for Gordon, both looked at me.

  “Hey,” Riley said.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Where you been?”

  “Round about.”

  “Anything wrong?”

  I just shook my head. I would tell him later. Jane looked at me a moment longer and then turned back to watch for Gordon. I sat. It would take me a while to settle down. I had been in enough fights to know once you got your blood up it was hard to stop, and harder to get over it. The thing that bothered me most is why I even hit that man. I made him move aside. Then I hit him because he’d said something about Jane. I’d given him a way to get under my skin.

  I was thinking about my stupidity when a man walked up and said to Jane, “There’s some folks here for you. Down at the east gate.”

  “For me? What folks?” Jane said.

  “Don’t know. They just ask for, ‘the girl who heals.’ That make any sense to you?”

  Jane said she would come.

  We went out through the front gate to a field at the eastern side the camp. Maybe a dozen people stood, waiting. When they saw Jane coming, they rushed forward, surrounding her, all talking at once.

  Riley and I looked at each other and shrugged. We asked one man at the edge of the crowd why he was here. He said he had heard Jane had healed a little girl.

  Riley said, “This is getting right interesting.”

  “Look,” I said and nodded toward the far side of the field, where the trail came out of the woods. A woman, almost staggering, carried a child on her back. Just behind her, two men bore a skinny little boy on a pallet. A woman walked next to the boy, talking to him, pointing across the field to Jane.

  “Damn, more of ‘em,” Riley said. “What do we do now?”

  I shrugged and said, “Don’t know.”

  But Jane knew. She handed her rifle to me and led everyone over to one edge of the field where the people could rest in the shade. Growing up, I had seen a fair number of traveling preachers and even a few who claimed to do healings. All of them put on a big show of standing up and, well, preaching at folks. I had always treated such preachers as free entertainment.

  Maybe I should have known better by then, but I expected Jane to put on a show, to start preaching about her messages from God and all that. But she didn’t. Instead, she just had a little private time with folks. Sometimes it was a whole family carrying a sick child, or one of their old folks, to see Jane. Sometimes it was just a mother or a father with a baby. She just visited with them, listened to each and every one of them. She would pray and lay hands upon the sick and the hurt. You could hear other folks praying along with her. A few had their arms lifted up and were speaking in tongues. Other folks who had been with Jane, or were still waiting, took to singing the old hymns everyone knew.

  Riley and I stayed busy helping newcomers get settled. And they kept coming. Soon we had fifty people in the crowd. Men from the camp were drifting down to watch the strange doings. After two hours or so, I saw Lieutenant Gordon and another officer, a thin gray-haired man, coming toward us.

  Gordon waved me over. “What’s going on here?” He sounded angry.

  I explained about the healing at the Baker place, and I guessed that the story had spread.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

  “Didn’t seem important, Sir. We didn’t know these people would come here.”

  “They have to go. Move them. Now.”

  “No, Lieutenant,” the other officer said. “We don’t treat our people like livestock.” He called to one of the men on guard duty, “Bring down some food and water for these folks. Whatever you can find. Anyone gives you trouble, tell them Colonel Campbell sent you.” He said to Gordon, “You can go. I’ll see to this.”

  Gordon looked angry, but he said, “Yes, Sir.”

  I watched him walk away. Good riddance, I thought.

  The Colonel took a step toward me and said, “Tell me about the girl.”

  I told him what Jane had said about her mission from God, fighting the Government, what had happened at the Baker place, how Gordon had treated her, everything. He listened and looked at the crowd around Jane. From his questions, I could tell he already knew some things, likely from the sealed letter I had brought. But he wanted to hear it all from me.

  When I was done, he said, “You believe her?”

  “Sir, I don’t know what to believe. But she believes.”

  “That might be enough. I’d like to talk with her.”

  I led him down to Jane, who stood up when she saw him coming, and shook hands with him as any man would have done. They walked off a little way together. I watched as they spoke, but couldn’t hear what was said. Each looked directly at the other. Neither smiled, but each nodded as the other spoke.
He gave a final nod and walked away.

  He came to me and said, “If she needs anything, let me know. I’m Colonel Campbell, General Winslow’s Chief of Staff.”

  “Yes, Sir,” I said, and I watched him head back into camp.

  Riley came up. “What happened?”

  “Not sure,” I said, “but I think Jane just found her first friend up on the hill.”

  “About damn time,” he said.

  People kept arriving in twos and threes all through the afternoon. When Jane left them, perhaps seventy people were camped for the night in the field. As we walked to our campsite, I could tell she was worn out. So I didn’t bother to ask what Campbell had said to her. She went right into her lean-to without saying goodnight.

  Riley and I got a fire going and talked quietly so as not to disturb Jane.

  “So,” Riley said, “whatcha think?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “Still think she’s crazy?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “Don’t know? After what we saw today? You still don’t know?”

  “That’s right. I still don’t know. Yeah, she took good care of these folks, but it’s got nothing to do with a war with the Government, now does it?”

  “Come on. If Jane hadn’t healed that little girl, none of them would be here. We’d still be waiting on that Lieutenant Gordon.”

  “So you reckon she can do miracles?” I said.

  “Yes, I reckon she can.”

  “You ain’t gone Jesusy on me, have you?”

  “No, I ain’t gone Jesusy. But partner, comes a time when you shit or get off the pot.”

  I felt pulled toward what Riley wanted me to say, but something in me just wouldn’t do it. I said, “Well, I don’t know.”

  He stood up, snatched his rifle, and walked off into the darkness. After a while, I got my bedroll and lay down for the night. But, of course, I didn’t go to sleep for a long time. I lay thinking, fighting the things Riley had said.

 

‹ Prev